Jim and I agree that a child should learn to respect those in authority. This doesn’t mean blind obedience, and we try to teach Michael the difference. But sometimes a child must do as he is told whether he wants to or not—pick up his toys, put away his dishes, brush his teeth—because there will be a time in his life when he has to do other, more important things that he doesn’t feel like doing. It may be a school assignment or a job task or giving up fun to help a family member, but it is better to learn discipline when you are young than to have none and struggle as an adult. Defying conformity is a personal choice, but it comes with consequences. If you don’t do your dishes, you may not get your allowance, but as an adult, if you refuse to perform your job as required, you may get fired—a far worse consequence.
Somehow we have attempted to teach Michael these lessons in part by using the phrase “in charge.” When we were first dating and I offered to watch Michael when Jim worked late, Jim would tell Michael that while Daddy was gone, Kate was “in charge.” Michael has always been instructed that, whether it be a babysitter, Grandma, or my sister, that person is “in charge.” Those in charge are to make certain Michael goes to bed at the right time, finishes his dinner if he wants dessert, and changes the channel if SpongeBob Square Pants comes on.
Michael became six and then seven and at the age of eight he now knows who is in charge without being told. Like any child, he has found ways to apply this concept, circumvent it, and test how far it extends. For example, he has figured out that because Grandma is Jim’s mother, Grandma is “in charge” of Daddy. He has also learned that when Jim is gone and I am the one to stay with him, he can get more and get away with more. And if I say, “No, you know your dad wouldn’t approve of that,” he’ll say, “But Kate, you’re in charge right now.” Sometimes when both Jim and I are home, Michael will pursue me alone with his demands, hoping to wear me down. And when I begin to lose my resolve, I say, “You’ll have to ask Daddy; he’s in charge right now.” Michael always sighs when I tell him Daddy is in charge because Daddy does not argue or negotiate or explain or justify; he simply says either “Yes” or “No.” There’s not much fun in that, so Michael likes to find ways to make sure I’m the one in charge.
A few weeks ago, on Mother’s Day, we planned to meet Grandma and Papa and spend the day at the zoo. Before we left the house Michael asked his usual question, directed of course, toward me: “Can I get a toy at the zoo?”
However, it was Jim who replied, “No.”
Michael looked disappointed for a moment, then turned to me and smiled. “But Kate, today is Mother’s Day—you are in charge!”
This morning Michael asked if I would be able to come to his open house at school next week. It is an opportunity for parents to see the projects the children have been working on all year long. I can usually sneak away from work for an hour, but I never know when something may come up that will require my immediate attention. In previous visits to similar school events, I have seen children sobbing uncontrollably because their parents were not in attendance. I don’t want Michael to be hurt or upset if I can’t make it, so I try to manage his expectations.
“I am going to try to come to the open house, but it is taking place during my workday, and I may not be able to get there if something important comes up.”
Michael ponders this for a moment. “You mean something like work that you have to do for Gordon?”
He thinks about this a little bit more. “Kate, is Gordon in charge of you?”
I can see where this is going. “Yes.”
“Well, then, why don’t you just ask him?”
There’s no arguing with that logic.